You Fight Good
by L.C. Li
Summary: He'd never been uncertain of himself. Ever. — Shang:Mulan.


_**(a/n: UHH this came absolutely out of nowhere but i was watching mulan yesterday and it's the first time since I watched mulan since like i was 7 and i had so many shang:mulan feels that it was ridiculous and had to be expelled so. yeah.**_

_**fun fact: this story is 888 words without the author's note, which is like the luckiest possible number you can possibly have in china. whoooo.)**_

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**You Fight Good**

Li Shang was born, and he was confident.

He was ruddy and loud, wailing at the top of his tiny lungs. He did not stop wailing. The doctor cooed at him and complimented him for being very fat—very healthy. The fortunes looked favorably upon this one, he said. It was written in the stars.

All present nodded and smiled and said he would be the perfect son.

::-::

Li Shang was five, and he was confident.

He was inseparable from his father, sticking to his footsteps like a second shadow. He never uttered a word or made a move; he only sat, quietly, obediently, listening to every sound that fell from his father's lips. At five, he took up a stick and began to imitate his father's stances with near-perfect accuracy.

All present nodded and smiled and said that he would be the perfect soldier.

::-::

Li Shang was ten, and he was confident.

He was the top in his class, but humble. He was unmatched in physical combat, but picked his battles with wisdom. He did not speak to girls, but nor did he mock them. He was strong, charitable, respectful, intelligent, handsome, commanding, invulnerable. The son of the great General Li, unmatched by any and respected by all. He was Li Shang.

All present nodded and smiled and said that he would be the perfect commander.

::-::

Li Shang was fifteen, and he was confident.

He was being groomed for a match. They would not marry for some years, he was told, but nevertheless, he had to understand the duties of the Man of the Household. He learned that when he was married, his wife would stay out of sight and out mind, demure, allowing him to focus on the military front, as a proper wife should do. She would keep the house in order and bear him a great son.

Li Shang met his future wife. She was pretty, he supposed, but quite dull. He could not help but think that she might as well be a fanciful vase of flowers, and wondered what it would be like to have a brave and courageous wife, a wife who he could trust to the ends of the world.

But it was a thought of infidelity and dishonor, and not a thought of a confident man, so Li Shang shoved the thought away and smiled emptily at his bride to be.

All present nodded and smiled and said that he would be the perfect Man of the Household.

::-::

Li Shang was twenty, and he was confident.

He saw the rabble of quarreling men, and though it disheartened him at first, he refused to let it take hold. He knew that he could shape them into the perfect regiment. His entire life had prepared him for this responsibility; he knew that he could meet it.

And he did. It was not by his own means, he had to admit, but his ragtag group of ugly ducklings had blossomed into lovely swans. They completed their training with flying colors—all thanks to the scrawny yet persistent Fa Ping.

All present nodded and smiled and said that he would be a perfect general, just like his father before him.

::-::

Li Shang was twenty, and he was uncertain.

He stood over the huddled, _feminine_ figure on the peak of the mountains, sword cold and heavy in his hands. He remembered Fa Ping's ingenuity, Fa Ping's boldness, Fa Ping's sensitive heart. But Fa Ping was now Fa Mulan, and Fa Mulan had to die. In his heart, they were one and the same; Fa Mulan had saved him, just as Fa Ping had saved him.

So Li Shang flung the sword before Fa Mulan, bitterness curdling in his stomach as he mounted his horse and galloped away.

All present agreed with his decision, although it was with sorrow and lacked nods and smiles.

::-::

Li Shang was twenty, and he was terrified.

He was standing before Fa Mulan on the steps of the temple, tongue tied and heart racing and cheeks too pigmented to be mistaken for exertion. Millions of lines ran through his head, each more trite and cringeworthy than the last. Ironic; he would prefer to bow to her than to talk to her, for that was how deeply his respect ran.

_You saved China. _

_You're brave, you're courageous, and I would trust you to the ends of the world. _

_Your heart is gentle, but your will is strong. _

_You are beautiful. You are powerful._

But Li Shang was twenty and terrified and said none of these eloquent words. He only bit out amidst a voyage of tongue-twisting and garbled language:

"You... uh, you fight good."

Li Shang was twenty, and he was an idiot.

The Emperor did not nod and smile and say that he was perfect. The Emperor glared at him. The Emperor raised a sardonic eyebrow. The Emperor snorted.

"You don't meet a girl like that every dynasty," he said.

So Li Shang, realizing that the Emperor's word was probably one to seriously consider, followed Mulan, wondering how he could possibly woo the greatest hero of China.

::-::

Li Shang was twenty, and he was not confident.

Being confident all the time, however, also seemed to be fairly dull.

**FIN  
**_s.d.g._


End file.
